


Silvertongue

by riteinthefeels



Series: The Woes of Deceit [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Genderbending, Pseudo-Incest, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riteinthefeels/pseuds/riteinthefeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Brother, do you need some advice?”</p><p>Thor was silent, his heart beating up into his throat as his brother edged closer to him, leering in that way that made the golden-haired god’s skin crawl.</p><p>“Come now, don’t be coy. You came to me for tips, did you not?” His tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he neared Thor’s ear.</p><p>A silken whisper flowed between them as the trickster asked once more, “Do you need some help with your cunnilingus skills, Thor?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silvertongue

**Author's Note:**

> I found this conversation under a [Texts From the Avengers post](http://textsfromthe-avengers.tumblr.com/post/30606529871/fictionaladyfeels-lana-i-like-to-think-lana) and had the urge to treat it as a prompt and fill it.

“Why is your brother called Silvertongue?”

The question comes at the ebb of afterglow, sliding in a murmur between fulfillment and torpor. Her soft treble gusts across Thor’s chest as he rouses from the edge of sleep. Cracking his eyes, he gazes down into the innocent face of his rescuer. The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk as he responds, the deep growl of his voice muffled against Jane’s ear where she lays sprawled across his statuesque body.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, it was in that picture-book Erik grabbed from the library. The one with you and Loki and Mjolnir and the Bifrost in it.”

Her fingers twist through his golden hair and he slowly props himself up on one elbow, leaning his shoulders against the wall of the tiny RV bedroom. Still smiling, he searches those warm brown eyes for a hint of playfulness, but finds sincerity instead. His head tilts back as he reminisces over the bucolic era of his youth, losing himself in the serenity of what was.

~*~

It was spring in Asgard, and the warm breezes flowing throughout the palace breathed new life into all its residents, from the whipping boy all the way up to Odin’s young princes. Thor and Loki were in the in-between time: they had become masters of their crafts, but were not yet of marrying age. It was a dangerous period for the palace’s denizens.

The older boy, aglow with the perpetual bronze of his skin and plaited golden halo, had taken to challenging any and all whom he deemed worthy opponents. With knowledge of Thor’s possession of Mjolnir, even seasoned warriors ducked into the shadows when they saw the flicker of his red cape or heard his voice booming along the palace’s corridors. The younger son, Loki, stood in stark contrast to his well-loved brother. A lean form cloaked in creamy skin and a cropped mane as dark as the mischief swirling behind verdant irises served as ill defense against the jests of his peers. Seidr was woman’s work, as he was continually reminded, but it was because of the mastery of magic that Loki could boast an even score against his radiant brother, where no others could.

It was spring, and that meant the maidens’ grips on their skirt hems would be a bit looser. Thor’s absences would no doubt increase as the days grew longer and the nights all too short. Loki had long perfected the art of coaxing each beautiful newcomer into the darkened halls meant for the servants, enveloping his new maiden or youth in shadow and ecstasy for an evening before stealing back to the bedroom he shared with the fledgling thunder god.

One balmy afternoon, Loki lounged against a towering ash, poring over a new book given to him by a particularly lust-struck young man from Vanaheim. Thor greeted him from the nearby orchard, striding up to tower over the trickster. Turning a page, Loki ignored the shadow cast over his reading material until Thor cleared his throat several times. He squinted up at the thunderer’s silhouette, annoyance clear in the purse of his lips.

“What is it, Thor?”

Thor immediately reclined beside Loki, hands forming a cradle for his scalp. He grinned at the green-eyed incubus, trying to find the words for what he needed to ask.

“There is talk throughout the palace, Loki. I hold no love for furthering gossip, but I must know if it is true. They say you have an insatiable… appetite… for certain… things.”

His resplendent face scrunched into confusion as he struggled to convey his meaning without resorting to plebeian vulgarity.

Loki sighed, hoping that playing dumb would allow him to keep his facade intact and get back to his book. “Mead and good food?”

Thor shook his head, unable to will the words to his lips. He glanced at the satiny leather in Loki’s hands, sure it was a recent addition to the voluminous library lining their bedroom’s walls.

“I have not seen this book before. Is it new? Where did you get it?”

Another page turned, and Loki mumbled condescendingly, “Oh and I suppose you know all of my books, Thor? When did you learn to read?”

“No, really, Loki, how did you come by it? I have barely had a moment to myself all spring while Father arranges gatherings with the nobility of our allies. I—“

“That’s not what I’ve heard. You forget we share a room, brother.”

Blushing, Thor chewed on his lip while he decided a better way to broach the subject.

The dark-haired godling laid his book on the grass with a huff, realizing he would be subject to Thor’s dogged persistence yet again until the thunderer had gotten what he wanted. “It was a gift from an admirer.”

Thor glanced confusedly at Loki and the trickster gestured at the book.

“So it’s true?”

 “Thor, I tire of these games and I’d really like to get back to my new gift. I have taken to my bed just about everyone in the palace at this point—and I do mean everyone, excepting Odin and Frigga. Ask Fandral if you do not believe me.”

Thor snorted in surprise and sat upright, blue eyes clouding at the thought of the philandering Fandral defiling his brother.

“—and I’ve resorted to seducing every new piece of attractive nobility that comes through those gates, partly as a challenge and partly to sate this unquenchable lust. So if you were going somewhere with your questions, out with it. Otherwise, please leave me to read in peace.”

Mouth agape, Thor struggled to make sense of Loki’s boastful admission.

“I, uh, I had heard that you were caught with the lady Freya the other night, and—“

“Caught would imply that we were trying to be inconspicuous. She might have been, but I most certainly was not. Let them all laugh at the effeminate Loki who weaves magic like a reclusive hag. They won’t be laughing when their wives call out _my_ name in bed.”

“Why do they call you Silvertongue?” Thor blurted out.

Loki dropped the spell he had been weaving through his fingers, the green mist dissipating as he turned to Thor with a most wicked smile.

“Silvertongue?” he chuckled. “Now that is a new one. Where did you hear that?”

Picking at his nails, Thor frowned at his calloused hands and debated whether to lie.

“I was with a serving girl last night. She left in a fury and screamed ‘At least your silver-tongued brother knows what he’s doing’ as she stomped out.”

The smile vanished from Loki’s lips and his eyes slitted, memories turning over in his mind of hushed epithets in the winding corridors of the palace’s recesses. Serving girls and ladies of the court whispering as he passed, “Loki of the silver tongue,” with nary a glance their way from the prince’s masklike countenance, while inside he burst with pride.

The sly grin broke open his lips anew. _Could it be? Something he was actually better at than Thor?_

“Brother, do you need some advice?”

Thor was silent, his heart beating up into his throat as his brother edged closer to him, leering in that way that made the golden-haired god’s skin crawl.

“Come now, don’t be coy. You came to me for tips, did you not?” His tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he neared Thor’s ear.

A silken whisper flowed between them as the trickster asked once more, “Do you need some help with your cunnilingus skills, Thor?”

Thor turned slightly to watch him from the corner of his eye, the ice of Loki’s breath chilling down into his bones. He gulped and nodded, untrusting of his own tongue not to make a fool of him.

Loki leaned back slightly and giggled, his amusement exacerbated more by the reddening of Thor’s stubbly cheeks.

“You—you have to forgive me, Thor,” he wheezed out between fits. “To think of all the things—I have tried to best you in—and _this_ is where I succeed?!”

Loki rolled onto his side, clutching his stomach as mirth streamed from his throat and eyes. Thor stood to leave, anger and regret rolling across the sky, and Loki grabbed his ankle in protest.

“No—wait! I will help you, I just—I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Sit back down, and let me explain.”

Loki folded his legs under him and closed his eyes, and Thor plopped back to the ground in annoyance. As the thunder god stared at his brother, Loki’s hair grew to shoulder-length, his facial features became more delicate and his chest and hips more pronounced. Thor stared in disbelief as he realized that Loki meant to _show_ him, not tell him.

“Loki, I do not think I wish to be on that list with Freya and the serving girls.”

The sultry, feminine Loki leaned forward on her knees, pressing a finger to Thor’s lips. “Shhhh, it’s okay. We can’t let the Greeks have all the fun, can we?”

She leaned further, steadying herself with a hand on Thor’s thigh as she traced his bottom lip first with her finger, then her tongue. The thunderer’s jaw grew slack as he succumbed to the advances of the exquisite, forbidden creature.

“What if someone sees us?” he murmured as Loki’s mouth covered his own, the devious tongue darting through his lips. She was different, but she was still his brother, all soft lines and curves concealing a coiling threat waiting for an opportune moment.

“Then someone will think you have found a new dark-haired maiden to woo,” Loki’s soprano purred against his mouth. “Perhaps they will mistake me for Sif.”

Delicate fingers reached for Thor’s vermillion tunic, pulling it hem-first over the golden crown and tossing it aside. Her mouth moved down along his neck, suckling and biting just a little too hard as she relished the sharp hitches of breath. She crawled onto his lap, slipping out of her own tunic and pressing her cool, bare skin against the heat of Thor’s chest. Small, round breasts heaved with need, and she grabbed his hand and guided it to her skin, gasping as he cupped her and thumbed her nipple.

“You can’t be all bad,” she mused. “You slink into our bedroom well past midnight often enough to be doing something right.”

Thor traced his free hand along the ridge of Loki’s spine, resting his palm between her shoulder blades. She leaned back against his arms as his head dipped down to accommodate her nipples with his mouth.

“Whoa, boy, okay, that’s step one. You can’t go straight for the goal in this game,” she chided, grabbing his chin and pulling his head up. “It’s nice that you’re enthusiastic, but building up anticipation will help you maintain stamina and make it more pleasurable.”

Loki rose to her feet in front of Thor, wiggling out of her pants and kicking them off to the side. The hammer-hurler reached up to caress the curve of her ass and pressed his face against her thighs, kissing gently and deeply inhaling the scent of her skin.

“Loki, you smell amazing. How have I never noticed before?”

The pale figure beamed encouragement. “Compliments are good! So you’re not hopeless after all.”

Thor grinned and moved up to his knees, soft puffs of breath blowing the thin line of hair trailing down from her belly button. Chapped lips connected with her belly, swirling imaginary lines in arcs along alabaster skin. His lips parted to plant open-mouthed kisses between her hip bones, and he felt her falter and quiver.

“M-maybe I should lie down,” the woman muttered between stuttered breaths and soft sighs. She knelt again before Thor, their pelvises crushing the aching throb between them. Their eyes only inches apart, she stared straight into those electric blue orbs.

“Still don’t want to be on the list with Freya, brother? We can always stop,” she teased, all grinding hips as she dared him to deny her. “It’s not an exclusive soiree, but it’s unlike any you’ve yet known.”

In lieu of answer, Thor pushed her back until she lay on the ground, the shade from the ash leaves dappling her shimmering body with spearhead-shaped shadows. He crawled over her, the bulge in his pants bearing down against her thigh until he lay with his hips pressed to hers, their legs entangled and their chests rising and falling in unison. Her nostrils flared, and she pushed firmly on his shoulders.

“This is what I’m talking about. Anticipation is key. Also, probably the most important thing you need to realize is that _this is not about your penis._ This is about you using your mouth to make a woman feel like the queen of your world. Don’t pout, it’s unbecoming. I’m trying to teach you… ahhhhhh.”

Thor had resorted to kissing and licking all along the insides of her thighs, sometimes coming so close to her lips that his nose brushed them. Her muscles tensed spasmodically under his touch, her hips squirming to push the dark mound against his face. He obliged by breaching her opening with two thick fingers, gliding across the inner walls with a precision she didn’t know he had.

She tried to regain presence of mind long enough for a few words, uttering, “That’s… that’s good.”

Bucking rhythmically against his fingers, Loki’s body pleaded for more as the hammer-hurler sucked bruises onto her thighs, gradually zeroing in on the jewel hidden between her legs. He gave an experimental lick against her hood, glancing up when she jumped.

She reached for their discarded clothing, crumpling them hurriedly into a makeshift pillow to stuff beneath her buttocks.

“Flat of the tongue, Thor, not the tip.”

Nodding, he licked languorously from her guiche to the top of her hood as her thighs trembled against his ears. Heady moans escaped from her throat as her neck arched back, her fingers clawing at the green blades surrounding them.

“Is this right, Loki?”

_“For fuck’s sake, Thor, don’t stop!”_

Obediently, Thor nestled back down to his task, his free hand spreading the concealing flesh over her clitoris while his fingers worked just inside of her, drifting against her g-spot. His tongue dragged deliberately across her exposed button and the moans escalated. Loki forcefully thrust her swollen bump against Thor’s mouth, tensed hips grinding against him as the moans deepened into a guttural, feral sound reminiscent of the rutting of beasts and she was shaken by orgasm. The thunderer continued to lick slowly until Loki pushed him away, every nerve ending in her body ablaze.

Thor crawled over her again, the disheveled golden mane framing his face. He caressed her side and she shivered and batted at his hand. His swollen member pressed against her thigh and she sighed.

“Oh. I suppose I should take care of _that_ ,” she mumbled haughtily.

Loki reached down and wrapped her hands around his throbbing shaft, jerking him through the fabric until, desperate to taste the feast laid out before him, Thor slid off his pants. He turned her over, pulling her hips up until she was supported on her knees, and pushed his bulky head up against her cunt. The trickster’s hips pitched against the swelling and Thor pushed in slowly, savoring the sublime constriction of her walls. A shock streaked through her body as he penetrated her.

Fully encased within Loki, Thor rocked gently back and forth. The girl twisted around to glare at him.

“Thor, you’re not going to break me. I’ve done this a hundred times. Just _fuck_ me.”

Thor drew out almost his entire length and plunged back in, ruthlessly skewering the feminine body. He plowed into her again and again, ragged gasps and euphoric screams ripping from her throat.

“Don’t stop,” she squeaked out breathlessly. “Come for me.”

Thor’s hands were everywhere: steadying himself on her hips, raking down her back, slipping over her ribs to fondle her breasts. He leaned forward as he spilled inside of her, half-collapsing onto her back with a contented sigh.

“Get off me, you brute,” she mumbled halfheartedly, any prior patience she had exhibited now gone with the final thrust.

Thor slid to the ground with a thud, unwilling to move from the grotesque contortion in which he had landed.

“So tight,” he grunted. “Why are you so tight?”

Loki sighed, shaking her head. “That’s what happens after orgasm, Thor. _Please_ tell me you’ve made a woman come before. Oh, never mind. You will now.”

~*~

Jane gazes at the god quizzically. “What are you smiling about?”

Her voice brings him back to the present. _What was it she had asked?_

“He’s called Silvertongue because he can sweet-talk his way out of anything,” Thor responds, recalling the day their mother had heard Loki’s nickname and asked for an explanation. It worked for Frigga, and it should work for Jane.

“Jane, have you met Loki?” Thor’s brow suddenly creases in worry.

“Of course not. I just didn’t understand the reference.”

Thor snickers under his breath, thick fingers combing through her silky hair. Maybe one day Jane would learn the real reason for Loki’s moniker, but until she met him, the thunder god could protect her innocence.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this one, please read the second part, [Offering](http://archiveofourown.org/works/837894). Eventually, a third part will be added.


End file.
